


The fair grounds

by John_H_Watson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_H_Watson/pseuds/John_H_Watson
Summary: John promised Rosie a trip too the fair for her 10th birthday, but when John becomes ill it is up to Sherlock to take her and make sure she has the best birthday ever.





	The fair grounds

**Author's Note:**

> It is currently unfinished. This is just a tease..

John Watson laid in his bed a doctor working over him, something which he hated but Sherlock was insistent on having a second 'unbiased' opinion on Watson's health. After some tedious waiting the doctor came out too clarify John's state. "He has pneumonia plenty of rest and taking three of these a day should do just fine by him." The doctor handed Sherlock the pills and a list of things too do such as make sure John was drinking enough fluids, and not eating certain things. Sherlock nodded he was right John was much worse then he claimed to be.

Sherlock immediately began ransacking the cupboard for soup cans. It couldn't be too hard to make some soup could it? He finally found some classic chicken noodle soup. "ok" he deduced what was inside of the can. It looked too thick to be good soup. _Maybe it was old?_ He checked the expiration date. _Nope._ _Maybe it will look better when it's heated._ Sherlock emptied the contents into a pot on the stove. He turned on the stove to broil, in which the 'R' had been rubbed off so it said 'boil'. Normally he would have caught that but he was too focused on trying to find a soup bowl.

John Laid in bed with a frown set on his face. What in the hell was Sherlock doing? _Oh God not another experiment, I can't deal with having to worry about Sherlock catching the house on fire on top of trying to figure out how I am going to take Rosy to the fair._ The smell only grew stronger. John scrunched up his nose. Surprised he could smell at all with as much congestion he had. "SHERRLLLOCK!!" he called out immediately groaning in pain as the air painfully rushed out of his sore throat. "ONE MINUTE JOHN ITS ALMOST READY!!" Sherlock yelled back. "Gah!" John said frustrated his voice creaking. _What the hell is he talking about?! What is almost ready?_ John thought puzzled.

Meanwhile Sherlock was trying to deal with a bubbling blob of soup that was for some reason sticking to the pan and was definitely not soupy at all. He leaned over the stove too get a better look at the soup, when he suddenly felt a sudden rush of heat on his abdomen. He looked down "OH!" he had some how caught his pajama shirt on fire. He ran to the sink spraying water on himself. He became so flustered by the mess. He was tempted to give up, but decided the soup HAD to be done so all he had to do was put it in a bowl. Sherlock turned around back too the stove turning it off he had become so focused on getting the soup into the bowl he forgot the floor was wet.

With one misstep he landed on his arse half the soup on his soaking wet shirt. "Dammit!" he cursed putting the soup on the counter. He looked at the kitchen within minutes it went from sparkling clean to a disaster. Not even his experiments got this messy so fast. How was this possible? It was JUST soup! What ever recipe John had gotten wasn't even very good! I mean it LOOKED like one of Sherlock's experiments. Sherlock stood up carefully and removed his shirt. He then grabbed the bowl. _A drink, what if John got thirsty?_ Sherlock Assumed water was the **_safest_** choice.

John was still trying to put a name on the smell as Sherlock walked in. The smell overcame John he closed his watery eye's. "Oh God Sherlock what is that?" He attempted to speak without breathing. Sherlock smiled proudly. "Chicken noodle soup" He set it down in front of John like a child proud he had poured the milk all by himself. John stared at it a confused expression on his face. He was trying to decipher exactly what had went wrong here. "Did you put the milk in it?" John asked. Sherlock frowned, then it dawned on him that, the lack of milk is what constituted for the lack of 'soupyness' "it said 'already made'" Sherlock mumbled. "Sherlock what's on your face? and where is your shirt?" Sherlock peered around the door too look at himself in the mirror.

A black smudge was on his face and his hair was a complete disaster. "That's grease" he said pointing at the smudge. "and I umm accidently caught my shirt on fire and then spilled soup on it." Sherlock said nonchalantly as if it was nothing.  "Right" John said nodding. "well this is inedible, and I need to get ready." John proclaimed weakly pushing himself off the bed. Sherlock was by John's side immediately. "No you don't. I have all ready cleared your schedule, No work." Sherlock said softly shoving John back into bed.

"I don't mean work! I promised Rosy I would take her to the fair!" John insisted trying to move Sherlock's hands out of the way, but he was too tired and didn't feel much like fighting. He felt more like sleeping. "Rosy will understand that you can't make it" Sherlock assured John, but John knew better. "We have been talking about it for weeks. I promised her on the last day of the fair-"

"that you would take her because that's when they give out the best stuff, yes I know, but there is a fair once every year! There is no problem in waiting until next year!" Sherlock demanded finishing John's sentence. "No, you see I PROMISED her, and I will NOT let her down!" John held his stance. It was evident John wasn't going to rest until Rosy was taken to the fair so Sherlock surprised them both.

"I will take Rosy to the fair" Sherlock said, all the while a look of surprise across his own face at having said those words. John laid back confusion then consideration crossed his face. "I don't know.." _How could a man who couldn't make soup watch safely after my daughter?_ , but John knew that Rosy would be safest under Sherlock's protection. A distant memory edged in the back of his mind. A memory that he forced back before it could arise fully. _He WILL protect my daughter._ John assured himself.

"You want her to go don't you?" Sherlock asked

"yes..."

"well then I will take her, and Mrs. Hudson can watch over you while I am out" Sherlock confirmed

John rolled his eye's. He didn't need a care taker. "Ok fine" He agreed reluctantly. Sherlock could take Rosy to the fair, _There is no way I would last anyways. I am too exhausted._

 


End file.
